


honey, i'm just tryin to find my way to you

by serenitysea



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 5 Things, F/M, Gen, honestly i don't know how it even happened, skye is a cuddle monster, the team has alarming sleeping habits, there might be storytime at the end, this is a little bit of a sugar rush it's so cute, ward is her pillow of choice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 09:26:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2186457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenitysea/pseuds/serenitysea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>aka: four times skye falls asleep on ward (and one time he falls asleep on her.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	honey, i'm just tryin to find my way to you

**Author's Note:**

> for my darling, who requested cuddle fic. let it be said i am never one to back down from a request or a challenge, although this is a bit of a departure from my usual style. ;)
> 
> these scenarios range from season one to the unforeseeable future. i hope you enjoy.
> 
> title belongs to gregory alan isakov's _suitcase full of sparks_.

When Ward leaves his bunk, he nearly topples into Skye, who is standing in front of his door with a mug of what he sincerely hopes is coffee in her hand. "Peace offering?"  
  
He takes the coffee (Skye can't cook to save her life but she makes the best damn coffee on the Bus) gratefully and attempts to make sense of what is happening. "I thought you hated mornings."  
  
"If I'm going to be a good agent, I need to be adaptable," Skye insists, falling into step with him as they make their way to the stairs.  
  
The cargo hold is frigid in the early mornings and she shivers, rubbing her hands briskly to warm them up.  
  
Ward inclines his head to the punching bag and watches her bank down the automatic protest, instead choosing to obediently wrap up her hands and present them to him for inspection.  
  
"Good job." He stands behind the bag at the ready and nods.  
  
Skye takes a deep breath and begins to punch steadily, altering her stance every few jabs the way he has taught her. Because the coffee has mercifully kicked in, Ward lets his mind drift to the rest of the morning and the things he wants her to learn.  
  
So he is completely unprepared when Skye lists sideways into his arms and nearly drops her to the ground.  
  
She is out cold. Dead asleep.  
  
Ward chuckles despite himself and carefully lays her down on the mats. He strips off his hoodie and balls it up for her to use as a pillow and fetches a shock blanket from the first aid kid to drape over her. "Don't quit your night job, rookie."  
  
(When Skye wakes up a few hours later, it is because she inhales the familiar scent of Ward and cracks her eyes open to see him persistently attacking the heavy bag. She hums softly and snuggles back into sleep.)  
  
* * *  
  
The film has gone on longer than any of them (well, except for maybe FitzSimmons, the original suggesters of said movie) had anticipated.  
  
Simmons is sacked out, with a bottle of nail polish clutched tightly in her hand and the corresponding color is painted on exactly seven of Skye's toes. Fitz snores loud enough to wake the dead and Trip does that weird thing where he sleeps with his eyes half open. May is still flying and will remain in the cockpit until Ward relieves her in another four hours. Coulson disappeared into his office with paperwork long before they queued up the sequel to the first film, much less the third in the trilogy that they are currently watching.  
  
Skye, naturally, has taken to sprawling whatever limbs she can across his body and attaching them to him like a starfish. Ward winces as a still-wet toenail skims the fabric of his black pants, leaving a dark trail of sparkles in its wake. (And surrendering yet another pair of clean pants to wear when performing weekly maintenance on the vehicles in the cargo hold.)  
  
Ward gently folds her knees and is there to brace his shoulder in offering as a half-conscious Skye turns to him. " 's over?" She mumbles, rubbing absently at her nose.  
  
"Not yet," he whispers. "Go back to sleep."  
  
She complies without argument and curls up trustingly. Ward puts an arm around her (to make sure she doesn't fall off the couch) and does his best to focus on the movie.  
  
…Honestly, he has no idea what happens after that.  
  
* * *  
  
They had rescued the team and everyone had been patched up (May & Trip), fed and watered (FitzSimmons), or debriefed (Coulson, respectively).  
  
Skye flops backward onto the couch with a loud groan. " _Never_ again. Taking care of this team is worse than having children. I don't know how Coulson does it."  
  
"Well, he has May," Ward points out reasonably. He reaches for the nearest chenille blanket (Simmons had taken to keeping dozens of them in neat bins throughout the main cabin of the Bus) to her and obligingly holds one end as she spreads it over her feet.  
  
"Yeah, but keeping all of us in line is… a full-time job." She yawns halfway through and closes her eyes at last. "Just let me close my eyes for a bit."  
  
He counts to sixty and like clockwork, the predictable weight of her head lands on his leg. Ward smiles to himself and very gently combs a hand through her tangled hair. "They're a team, Skye. That's how he does it."  
  
Coulson walks through the cabin much later to find Ward reading quietly and Skye passed out, head in his lap. He clears his throat, drawing the attention of the Specialist.  
  
"She's wiped out." Ward sets his book down and tenses in preparation to move, the loose relaxation in his limbs vanishing instantly.  
  
It is on the tip of his tongue to suggest that Skye be placed in her own bed for the night, but then May comes up behind him and squeezes his hand warningly. "Try to get some sleep, Ward."  
  
Coulson privately thinks the slack-jawed expression on Ward's face is worth it.  
  
(The smirk May gives him later — not so much.)    
  
* * *  
  
The surgery had gone well.  
  
It had been touch and go for a while, but Coulson had always been a fighter — and he pulled through at the last moment. The doctors have come and gone over the rehabilitation plans with May, who had seemed infinitely relieved that he would be flight-ready in just three more days (barring any heavy activity).  
  
May meets his eyes through the glass and nods. FitzSimmons and Trip had gone to the cafeteria (in the face of extreme stress, Fitz gravitated to salty snacks and Simmons wouldn't let him out of her sight, so Trip had to go with both of them to make sure they stayed in one piece) and would want to know the update.  
  
Skye stirs from her seat and looks blearily up at Ward. "Coulson?"  
  
He smooths her hair back absently. "He's going to be fine. The doctors said we can take him back with us in a few days."  
  
"Stubborn man," She smiles drowsily and closes her eyes again, nestling against his shoulder.  
  
Ward pulls her into his arms and doesn't let go.  
  
* * *  
  
Skye finds him at Coulson's desk. "It's a good look for you," she announces as she steps into the office.  
  
Ward drops the pen in his hand and shakes his head tiredly. "There is a _lot_ of work to do. I had no idea he was overseeing this much."  
  
"He _is_ the Director," Skye says helpfully, coming to lean on the desk beside him. "You're doing a great job."  
  
It takes a minute for him to swallow past the lump of emotion in his throat. "…Thanks."  
  
She smiles gently. "Come sit with me."  
  
"I don't really think —" Ward protests as she starts pulling him from the chair and over to the loveseat in the corner.  
  
"You think too much." When they are settled in cozily and she has fitted herself into the side of his body like interlocking puzzle pieces, Skye takes a long look at the dark circles under his eyes and frowns. "You're not getting enough sleep."  
  
Though he is reluctant to deny her anything, Ward has to fight the urge to jump up and return to the paperwork he had been reviewing. "I don't feel like I have time to sleep."  
  
"That's ridiculous. You're not a robot."  
  
He smirks in amusement. "That's not what you were saying when we first met."  
  
She places her hand on his chest, knowing it will anchor him to this moment. "Close your eyes, Ward."  
  
" _Skye_ …"  
  
"Will you just trust me? I'm going to tell you a story."  
  
It is on the tip of his tongue to insist that he doesn't have time for a story, or to close his eyes — that the paperwork _can't_ actually wait — until he sees the determined look on her face. There is no getting past Skye when she is like this.  
  
He closes his eyes.  
  
"Once upon a time there was a badass hacker —" Ward shakes with laughter and doesn't hide his delight when she jabs him with her elbow sharply. "— Who got in too far over her head at a party. She was saved by a knight in matte black kevlar who dispatched all the guards and took her to safety. Despite various betrayals, hard times and the occasional murder… they fell in love."  
  
Skye looks down in satisfaction as Ward dozes off with an ever so tiny smile on his face. She reaches for the StarkTablet at her elbow and kisses his forehead gently. "Just like that." Ward murmurs softly and relaxes into sleep as she works on triaging his (Coulson's) inbox with the occasional swear at the idiocy of her team.  
  
  
_…and they lived happily ever after._  



End file.
